


If Only John Knew

by Littlemarkimoo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alive Mary Winchester, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, John Finds Out, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 23:04:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14579565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlemarkimoo/pseuds/Littlemarkimoo
Summary: **Hey guys! This is a Wincest one-shot because I love to torture myself with feels….****This isn’t what I usually write but I stumbled upon the prompt and I knew I had to do something. So, here it goes….**This prompt is from holdmesamthatwasbeautiful on tumblr. Go check them out for more wincesty content!Prompt: Little Sammy is screaming with laughter and he pushes at his big brother who’s pinning him to the bed, tickling him mercilessly. “Dean, please stop!” Sam yelps. His cheeks bright red: breathless and bright eyed.John watches from the door, smiling.Little does John know that in ten years he will find his boys on another bed, in another state. Sam’s cheeks will still be flushed and he will still be breathless – but this time Sammy will claw at Dean’s back and whine “Dean, please don’t stop.”And John won’t be smiling.**Just a heads up, I took it a little bit further than just the prompt. I hope you enjoy anyways! And, most of it is written in John’s point of view. (Sorry for the feels if you get any from this :p). **





	If Only John Knew

**Author's Note:**

> **Hey guys! This is a Wincest one-shot because I love to torture myself with feels….**  
> **This isn’t what I usually write but I stumbled upon the prompt and I knew I had to do something. So, here it goes….**
> 
> This prompt is from holdmesamthatwasbeautiful on tumblr. Go check them out for more wincesty content!  
> Prompt: Little Sammy is screaming with laughter and he pushes at his big brother who’s pinning him to the bed, tickling him mercilessly. “Dean, please stop!” Sam yelps. His cheeks bright red: breathless and bright eyed.   
> John watches from the door, smiling.   
> Little does John know that in ten years he will find his boys on another bed, in another state. Sam’s cheeks will still be flushed and he will still be breathless – but this time Sammy will claw at Dean’s back and whine “Dean, please don’t stop.”   
> And John won’t be smiling. 
> 
> **Just a heads up, I took it a little bit further than just the prompt. I hope you enjoy anyways! And, most of it is written in John’s point of view. (Sorry for the feels if you get any from this :p). **

May 2, 1983

John held the newborn Sammy in his arms for the first time, tears threatening to slide down his cheeks. He was perfect in his eyes. Bright hazel eyes, a small button nose, a soft smile on his lips after he had had a fit of full-blown crying for a few minutes, and a tiny hand that wrapped around his index finger. 

John could already picture him crawling around on the living room floor. He could imagine, instead of having to teach Sam how to ride a bike, it would be Dean stepping in. A smile was on his lips, as he continued to watch his second son in his arms. The baby was already so close to falling asleep. 

“Dad? Do I get to hold him now?”

John tore his eyes away from Sam to look over at their other son, who was trying to be as patient as possible. They had promised him that he would be able to hold Sammy once he was finally born. He smiled softly, nodding to the chair near the corner of the room. “Hop up on the chair bud and I’ll bring him over.” He instructed. 

Dean didn’t even put up an argument, scrambling to get up onto the chair. Once he had done so, he got comfortable on it and adjusted to make sure he would be able to hold Sam properly. He had gone on and on about all of the things he was going to do to help out with raising baby Sammy. He had been so excited that he had the chance to be able to be called big brother. 

John made his way over to Dean Sam still wrapped up in his arms. “You have to support his head.” He said in a gentle tone. “See how Daddy’s holding him? Try and hold him like this.” He added, before he carefully laid the baby down in Dean’s arms. 

He watched, with an impressed look on his face as Dean seemed to pick up on it right away. His smile slipped back onto his lips as he watched Dean hold Sam for the first time, and he knew, right then and there, that Dean would be the perfect big brother for Sam.  
Dean leaned down, pressing a small kiss to his brother’s forehead. “Love you Sammy.”   
If only John knew that down the road, those words would come back to haunt him…

6 months later - November 2, 1983 

“Let’s say goodnight to your brother.” Mary said, carrying a three-year-old Dean on her hip. She flicked on the light, before setting Dean down on his feet. She watched as he headed over to Sam’s crib, leaning over the railing. 

“Night Sam.” Dean spoke up, his voice still so young and pure. He had yet to see the horrific monsters that were actually real; he had yet to meet the creatures that went thump in the night. The young boy leaned down to press a light kiss to Sam’s forehead like he did so many other times before.

Mary gave a soft smile of her own before she too leaned over the crib. She gently caressed Sam’s head, mumbling a small “Goodnight love”, before she too was pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead. As she straightened up, she could hear another set of footsteps from behind them. 

“Hey Dean.” John’s voice spoke up as he stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. A smile played at his own lips, as he watched his family, thinking about how truly blessed he was. 

“Daddy!” Dean called out, running over to him. 

“Hey buddy.” John didn’t even hesitate to pick him up, settling the small boy easily on his hip. “So what do you think? Do you think Sammy’s ready to toss around a football yet?” He asked, a joking tone in his voice.

“No Daddy.” Dean giggled out, the smile still spread across his own lips. 

Mary headed off to bed, after John had agreed to put Dean to bed. 

The black-haired male held onto his three-year-old, hugging the boy close while he watched the baby starting to drift off in his crib. “Sweet dreams Sam.” He whispered softly, before he turned the light off and headed down to Dean’s room. 

******

John didn’t remember falling asleep in the armchair, but he certainly didn't expect to be woken up a few hours later by a scream. His heart raced as his mind seemed to slowly click on to who as screaming. “Mary?” He called out, scrambling to get out of his chair in a rush. “Mary!” He shouted again, before he raced up the stairs to their house faster than he ever had before. 

His shaky legs managed to carry him down the hallway, finally arriving outside of Sam’s room. He threw open the door, soft pants coming from between his lips as he did so. “Mary-“ He croaked out, before glancing around the room. He as a bit confused when she was nowhere in sight, but he made his way over towards his son anyways to make sure Sam was okay. 

“Hey Sammy.” He whispered out as he lowered the side of the crib, his breathing still coming out in slight pants due to the panic he had just been in. “You okay?” He asked, though of course he didn’t expect the six-month-old to actually answer. Instead, he got small gurgles and excited little wiggles from his youngest son. 

His eyebrows furrowed together as he noticed a red splotch of something near Sam’s head. He reached out a hand to touch it, though he was only greeted with more of the red substance dripping onto his hand. He pulled it back slightly to get a better look at it, before his eyes wandered to the ceiling. His eyes widened with horror with the sight that he was met with. 

His wife, stuck to the ceiling, with a slice mark across her stomach. Which would explain the red substance. He stumbled back, tripping over his own feet as he landed on the ground. “No! Mary!” He shouted, his eyes filled with tears. He didn’t have much time to react before the ceiling erupted into flames, quickly consuming Mary. 

John was brought out of his panicked state when he heard loud crying coming from Sam. He knew he couldn’t waste anymore time as he gathered his youngest son into his arms and headed out of the room quickly. 

“Daddy-“ Dean began, his own voice panicked as he looked up at his father. 

“Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don’t look back.” John instructed, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He moved the small baby into Dean’s arms, knowing that Dean could handle this. At this point, he didn’t have a choice anyways. “Now Dean! Go!” He shouted, giving the young boy a slight push in the other direction. He watched as Dean took off down the hall, before he turned back to the flames still coming from Sam’s bedroom.

Just like that, their chance at a normal life went up in flames. 

If John only knew what this would do to their family…

May 25, 1991

John watched from the doorway of the motel door, as Dean had his eight-year-old brother pinned to the bed. A smile spread across his face, for the first time in a while, as he watched his eldest tickle Sam’s sides. 

It was not often that the two boys get to enjoy their time in a motel room. It was usually spent doing research, or getting weapons ready. Even at eight-years-old, Sam already knew. Sam knew about all of the monsters in the world, even though he shouldn’t. And he felt responsible for it; he felt bad, but now they have another mind and another set of hands to help with setting up for hunts. 

“Dean, please stop!” Sam squealed out, his face bright red and his eyes wide as he tried to push at the other’s hands. He squirmed from under Dean, though it was no use as Dean was practically straddling his waist to keep him down. 

Dean let out a small hum, pulling back his hands and taking a few seconds to act as if he was thinking about it. It didn’t last long before he went back to attacking Sam’s sides with his fingers. “Not a chance, Sammy.” He replied, his own laughter mixing in with Sam’s. 

John didn’t bother to break the two of them up just yet, watching them enjoy themselves. He couldn’t help but to think about the what ifs. What if Mary hadn’t passed away? Would this be what their lives would look like? Or would the hunting life eventually come for them anyways? 

If only John knew that he should have been focusing his what if questions on something else….

Ten Years Later

June 6, 2001

Dean wanted to wait until Sam was at least eighteen. 

Sam honestly wished they could have had their first time together sooner, but he couldn’t say no to Dean. He rarely said no to his older brother. So, the two made an agreement that they would wait until Sam was eighteen. 

Even though no one knew about their relationship, it gave Dean a sense of security. He wanted to give Sam time to think everything over; to make sure his little brother really wanted this. 

As soon as John was gone long enough for the two of them to enjoy themselves, that’s when it happened. It was worth the wait for both of them though, as they found themselves at another motel. Sam was just barely eighteen. He was just barely the legal age when Dean finally took his virginity. 

Soft touches were passed between the two of them, as well as gentle, reassuring kisses. 

They didn’t know that John had come back a day early. 

John could feel the anger bubbling through his veins. Anger, confusion, disgust; so many different emotions were flowing through him and he didn’t know how to handle it. This definitely was not what he was expecting to come back to. He wasn’t prepared to find his eldest son… fucking his youngest son. 

He wondered if this was all his fault. Causing his two boys to move from town to town every few weeks couldn’t have been good for them. Maybe they spent too much time together, and it caused their relationship to become something so… toxic. 

He had caught a glimpse from the window, and he had regretted it the instant his eyes caught on to what was happening. It was like looking at a bad car accident, causing him to tear his eyes away from the scene so he could head to the door. 

Just as he opened the door, he heard a familiar set of words that made his stomach churn. 

“Dean, please don’t stop.” Sam nearly whine out, his voice shaky and breathless. His cheeks were flushed a light pink colour, and his eyes were slipped closed as if he was taking in every single sensation he was feeling. 

Dean couldn’t help but to let a slight smirk slip onto his own lips, as he picked up his pace. He couldn’t help but to think about how beautiful Sam looked like this; on his back, nearly underneath him. “Not a chance, Sammy.” Was his reply, just as shaky and breathless as Sam’s was. 

John wasn’t smiling this time.

And neither where Dean and Sam when they laid eyes on the new arrival. 

Sam was the first one to notice, a panicked look slipping onto his face. 

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion next, as Sam gripped onto Dean’s shoulders tightly. “D-Dean.” He breathed out. “Dean, stop. Please stop.” He was thankful when Dean finally stopped, and he maneuvered his way away from the other male, tugging the blanket over himself. 

“Sammy? Hey. What’s going on baby boy?” Dean asked, before he followed Sam’s eyes towards the door. He tensed up, using the same blanket Sam was to cover himself up from their new guest. “Dad? You… uh… you’re early. You aren’t supposed to be back yet.” He stuttered out, watching as John approached the bed. It wasn’t in a good way either. 

Dean got off the bed, keeping the blanket covering himself. “Stay behind me.” He murmured the soft warning to his baby brother, his shoulders back and his chin up; much like a soldier’s stance. 

“Dad, calm down before you do anything you’ll regret.” Sam spoke up, though he tensed when John’s eyes turned to him. He shrunk back slightly, keeping a hand on Dean’s back still for some sort of support even though he was terrified. 

It seemed as though Sam’s words fell on deaf ears, as John took a swing directly for Dean’s eye. 

******

When the actual, physical fighting came to an end, and the two brothers were dressed, Dean holding an ice pack to his right eye, the conversation the three had been dreading was next to be had. 

Dean and Sam were sat on the edge of one bed, the same bed the two had been making love on previously. Dean had thrown on a baggy tee shirt, and a pair of jeans that were way too tight for them. Most likely Sammy’s jeans. 

The two watched as John paced along the motel floor in front of them, as if trying to process what had happened. 

Sam was the first to speak up, dressed in one of Dean’s baggy sweaters and a loose set of sleep pants that he was sure also belonged to Dean. “Please let us just explain ourse-“ He began, though John’s voice cut him off. 

“You keep your mouth shut.” John snapped, a single finger pointed directly at Sam. “I don’t want to hear anything out of you. Not a single peep.” He warned, before his finger was pointed towards Dean. “And you-“ He nearly growled out. “What the fuck, Dean?” He asked. “I asked you to take care of your brother; to look after him. Not to fuck him!” 

The two flinched at the harsh tone in John’s voice, Dean’s head nearly ducking in shame. This was the worst-case scenario for them. “Sir…” Dean finally began, his voice breaking slightly as the pain showed through his tough act. 

No Dad. No Father. Just straight to sir. 

Sam had heard it, and he hated it. He hated it whenever Dean called their Dad sir. It meant business, and it made it feel like they weren’t a family. He moved a bit closer to his brother, wanting to make sure Dean could at least feel his presence. 

Dean let his eyes, or at least his one non-swollen one, shift away from John, though he didn’t completely focus on Sam. It would only make their situation worse. Instead, he adjusted in the slightest himself to allow his free hand to rest on Sam’s knee. He made sure to keep it out of John’s view, but he also wanted to make sure that Sammy was safe and remained calm despite their situation. “It’s more complicated than that.” 

“It shouldn’t be! He’s your brother, Dean!” John snapped out again, his face bright red due to his anger still. “It shouldn’t fucking be complicated. You’re supposed to have a brotherly relationship with him. Not…. Not whatever the fuck was going on!” He continued to pretty much scream, his arms flailing around a bit. 

“Dad-“ Sam started up again. 

“What did I say? Zip it Sam.” John warned again, giving his youngest a harsh glare.

“I’m part of this conversation! I should get a say in this for fuck sakes.” Sam snapped back at John, trying to keep up with his anger even as tears were threatening to spill over and onto his cheeks. “I’m not a little kid anymore. You can’t just tell me to shut up and push me off to the side.” 

Dean gave a light squeeze to Sam’s knee, though he knew the damage had been done. He was trying to protect his baby brother, but he currently felt like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs. He couldn’t think of any way to get himself and Sam out of trouble. 

John’s anger seemed to heat up even more at Sam’s words, a look of disbelief on his face. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” He asked, making his way closer to them. “You had better learn some goddamn respect when you speak to me or-“ 

“Or what?! I’m not scared of you anymore!” Sam replied, untangling himself from Dean so he could get up off the bed. He put a hand on Dean’s knee, as if to non-verbally tell him to stay seated. “I am not your little soldier, and I’m sick of you pushing me around; pushing us around.” He was tempted to glance at Dean, though he didn’t want to break his eye contact with John. “The only reason you even bother with us anymore is because we’re the only things still connecting you to Mom, an-“ 

A sharp slap sounded throughout the room, Sam’s head pretty much snapping to the side. 

“I warned you to shut up, Sam.” John growled out, his voice dangerously low. 

Dean got up off the bed as soon as the slap sounded, his teeth gritted as he sent a glare John’s way. His attention was soon on Sam though, a light hand resting on his lower back. “Sammy, babe….” He breathed out softly, still in complete disbelief. 

Sam could feel the tears in his eyes, though he didn’t allow them to fall as he turned away from Dean to look back at John. He rested his hand against his stinging cheek, swallowing thickly. He didn’t think he’d ever felt this upset. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to breakdown or punch something. 

“Pack your shit and get out, Sam. Now.” John said, his eyes still full of rage as he eyed his youngest son. 

“Dad, you can’t be serious.” Dean began to argue. The only person Dean could ever fully rely on was his brother. Without him, he’d be lost. Sam was his whole world. “He doesn’t have any-“ 

“I’m not repeating myself. I want you out of here by the time I get back.” John finished, before making his way out the door. He slammed it hard enough to make the wall shake, and both of his sons flinch. 

If only John knew what they had was true love…

Sixteen years later

Mary was brought back. 

After she had been dead for over thirty-three years, she had been brought back by the Darkness for Dean and Sam. 

The two brothers had initially been thrilled at the fact that their mother had been brought back, after they had gone through the typical set of testing of course – just to make sure it really was her. But then the two realized something. 

They would have to go back to hiding their relationship. 

At least before they only had to hide their relationship whenever they went out to work on hunts. But whenever they were stuck in the bunker doing research, sleeping, eating, or…other activities, they were able to act as more than brothers. 

Castiel already knew about the two boys before they had even thought about telling him, so they had gotten used to being open around the angel. They had gotten so used to being able to express themselves finally.

But now with Mary being back…

Gentle arms around each other’s shoulders became brotherly back pats. Passionate kisses on the lips became brotherly kisses on the temple (if there were even any of those). Sharing a room became… separate rooms far apart from each other. 

Deep and meaningful “I love you”’s became jerks and bitches exchanged between the two of them, because Mary didn’t know the true meaning of it. 

If only Mary knew…

**Author's Note:**

> ((Wow. Okay. So, this got a lot deeper than I thought it was going to. I hope you enjoyed it though! I’m thinking about doing a second one based on Mary and her maybe finding out?))  
> ((I am so glad to be back into writing again! I have honestly missed it so much. More work will be out soon ^.^))


End file.
